


Book Club

by SlightlyTwistedSilverware, WelshWitch1011



Series: hell is full of good meanings, but heaven is full of good works [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Redeemed Ward, Skyeward - Freeform, Ward is Hellfire, skyewardmonth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 01:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4728161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlightlyTwistedSilverware/pseuds/SlightlyTwistedSilverware, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelshWitch1011/pseuds/WelshWitch1011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Coulson has awarded him a codename, and though his missions so far have been limited, their enemies are already starting to whisper and speculate about their latest adversary; Hellfire."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Book Club

**Author's Note:**

> Part II of our Skyeward Month fic series!

Absently, she swirls her coffee around her mug with just the tip of her index finger, yet she doesn’t actually insert her finger into the steaming hot liquid, just holds it above the rim and makes a stirring motion. As if by magic, the coffee is disturbed and the three packets of sugar she has just added begin to dissolve. She’s been getting a better handle on her powers over the last month, her control and ability both growing little by little, day by day. She’s almost reached a point now where she’s okay with her status as an Inhuman, although there are some at the Playground who would still whisper ‘freak’ behind her back instead. They’re never usually brave enough to say as much when she’s in earshot, though. 

Simmons and Fitz are over by the microwave, bickering good naturedly about whose turn it is to heat up their TV dinners, between snatching kisses and gazing at each other with dopey smiles. Skye shuffles around in her seat, not wanting to bear witness to their cutesy exchange. Sure, she’s happy for her friends now that they have finally pulled it together and professed their feelings for each other, but she’d rather not have her figurative nose rubbed in it; especially not since the complications with Ward. Just thinking his name is enough to extract a heavy sigh from her. 

Skye lowers her hand to the table and returns her attention to the magazine she has been pretending to read. She scans it, her eyes roving articles about fashion and Spring make up tips without any real interest, but she has nothing else to do since she’s still on light duties following San Juan and that incident - or more specifically, her transformation. 

She doesn't need to look up to know that he has entered the room. She feels it - the change in the air - like a magnetic force drawing her to him. But this time he doesn't meet her gaze and, as she finally lifts her eyes to focus on his imposing figure, she finds his movements are careless and angry. His boots pound against the ground, and as he lashes out at the levers and buttons on the coffee maker she tosses her magazine aside and climbs to her feet. The last thing she needs is for Ward to lose control. If he was a lethal force before, his wrath now is a far more terrifying prospect. Although of course she knows he would never hurt her, and if his last six months with the old team have proven anything, it's that Grant Ward will go to any lengths to keep her safe. Which is admittedly how his latest troubles began. Coulson has awarded him a codename, and though his missions so far have been limited, their enemies are already starting to whisper and speculate about their latest adversary; Hellfire. 

It suits him, Skye thinks. There's something dark and foreboding and yet ultimately heroic about the moniker, and that seems to more than sum up the complicated mess that is her former SO. 

"Therapy not going well?" she guesses, bobbing her head to meet Ward's eyes as he simply stills and grips the edge of the kitchen counter with a heavy sigh drifting from his lips. 

FitzSimmons have made a hasty escape, and Skye can't decide if it's their desire to be alone or their remaining hostility to Ward that has sent them fleeing for the sanctuary of their rooms.

“I guess you could say that,” he grinds out, and she doesn’t miss the hard, audible swallow that proceeds the admittance. 

“Want to talk about it?” Skye prompts, bracing herself for the rebuttal she is absolutely certain is coming. To her surprise, Ward’s actions slow and he turns to regard her. Their eyes meet, lock, then they simultaneously look away, Skye’s cheeks flushing crimson and Ward’s lips twisting into a frown. 

“I... This...” Ward begins, and the discomfort radiates from his body in overpowering waves. Skye simply nods and retakes her seat at the small kitchen table.

“Forget I said anything,” she offers, not adding a profession of her own stupidity but thinking it nonetheless.

There is complete silence for a few moments, during which Ward stands perfectly still, eyes trained on his still empty coffee mug, and Skye debates returning to her magazine versus escaping to her room for a much needed nap. That is when Ward takes her by surprise, his voice ringing out loudly, tinged with obvious frustration and anger.

“Andrew said my progress isn’t good enough for me to join Caterpillars within the year,” Ward spits out, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he adds, “but I guess he cleared you?”

She winces and offers him an apologetic smile, "Coulson wants me to head up the team..." 

He nods, as if he should have assumed as much, but his smile is genuine and proud and he sits down beside her, his gaze lingering long enough to deepen the blush on her cheeks. 

"I'm not sure I'm ready for something like that, I mean..." she begins, gesturing with her hands as she brings them up to her face and seems at a loss to begin to comprehend her boss' decision. 

"You're ready," Ward replies, his tone soft and yet definite. 

"You think so?" she seems surprised by his vote of confidence, although she realises that it’s probably more to do with her own lacking self-esteem. Her eyes lock on his, and she can't help the lazy smile that settles on her lips, or the persistent tug of longing in the pit of her stomach.   
"I do," he bobs his head, but his troubled expression remains even as he smiles at her. 

Averting his eyes to the table top, his fingers rub invisible circles across the surface as he finally confesses. 

"I've got so much rage inside me, Skye... I can't..." he falters, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck as his tone conveys his desperation. "I can't let it go... and until I do, I can't get a handle on my powers. I'm a liability. And Coulson knows it." 

"Hey, Coulson's the one who gave you a second chance, remember? He believes in you, Grant. He knows you can be that guy... the one you always wanted to be. It's just gonna take time." 

She interrupts him by placing her hand over his, and the second her thumb begins to brush against the back of his hand, a heavy silence falls between them.

Ward doesn’t respond verbally but his lips twitch at the corners, hinting at a smile. 

“Fifteen years...” he states quietly, avoiding Skye’s gaze still, “it’s a hell of a long time. What if I... What if I can’t do it?”

“Are you kidding me?” Skye demands, shaking her head and grinning, “I just got done telling you that you can.”

“Noted,” Ward answers, this time offering a genuine smile of amusement in response to Skye and her boundless enthusiasm. 

“So... Is that it?” Skye inquires somewhat hesitantly, earning herself a confused look from Ward. She adds quickly, “Garrett? Is that what’s holding you back?”

Ward appears to think it over, although the sensation of Skye's thumb caressing his wrist is making it difficult to focus on the issue, and he feels a familiar surge of frustration and anger bubble up from the pit of his stomach as Garrett invades his thoughts and ruins the moment. 

"I guess so," his tone is resigned, as if he is used to John Garrett's control over his life. It's been so long that Ward isn't even sure how to be an individual without his SO's control - to live his life for himself, to want things for himself, to be the man he thinks he really always could have been. And he does want things for himself now; he wants the trust of the team, he wants to make amends, he wants Skye. A conspiratorial smile tugs at Skye's features, and her eyes burn with mischief as she clasps his hand in hers and squeezes it excitedly. 

"I have an idea..." she talks through her smile, and Ward finds himself at once amused and a little wary of the plan unfolding in her mind. But she reminds him so much of the girl in the van, the girl he fell in love with what feels like so long ago.   
"No, you'll like it... I promise!" she enthuses. And he can do nothing but smile.

x-x-x

Ward is almost too frightened to ask what’s going on the next morning when Skye wordlessly walks up to him as he’s filling in reports at the table, before seizing his hand, tugging him out of his seat, and beginning to lead him away. He manages to stutter out some kind of demand for an explanation but nevertheless they make it to the field surrounding the base without him having extracted a response from her. She just grins all the way, looking so pleased with herself that it’s both scary and adorable at the same time. 

Once they are standing amongst the tall grass, shoulder to shoulder beneath the warm sunshine, Grant finally notices the large, brown cardboard packing box that is positioned in front of them; obviously whatever Skye is up to has taken a degree of planning but he is still, irritatingly, none the wiser. 

“Skye, what’s this about?” he repeats once again, trying to ignore the way the sunlight bathes her features, highlighting the soft curve of her cheekbones and picking out the faint caramel streaks in her hair. He swallows hard and shifts his weight so that there is a fraction of an inch more between their bodies. He’s still not entirely sure of what their relationship can be defined as, and he certainly cannot comprehend what it could be capable of becoming, so he tends to take the view that it’s best not to push his luck. 

Her enthusiasm would be contagious were it not for the sense of apprehension fast overcoming him, but as she reaches out and grabs his hand and hauls him over towards the box, his concerns begin to disappear. The smiles he thought he would never again see directed at him are frequent and - he dares to hope - genuine, and she seems at ease in his company, as if the demons in his past have been exorcised. 

"We're gonna play a game," she begins, crouching down and rifling through the cardboard box he has yet to peer in to. 

"Skye..." he drawls in exasperation, but she deflects his concerns with a grin and waves the item in her hand under his nose. "Come on Ward, everyone likes games... even you.”

She straightens up, remembering she still has hold of his hand, and having the decency to blush at the realisation.

“I thought you said this would be cathartic,” Ward states, his lips pursing as he glances at the object Skye clutches to her chest. It’s a book; Moby Dick, to be more specific. The pages are yellowed by time and the front cover curls in around itself at the corners. 

“It will be,” she assures him, toeing the side of the box with her boot to direct his gaze. He peers down, seeing that beneath the open cardboard flaps are scores of paperbacks, the titles of which are too familiar for comfort. He tries not to let his hesitation show but he’s certain it’s written plainly on his face.

“Where did you get those?” he queries, frowning as he reaches into the box and pulls out a beaten copy of ‘A Rumor of War’. Garrett had always had a hard on for real life soldier stories, almost as though he thought the words capable of bleeding from the page directly into Grant’s skin, fortifying him and helping to form him into the perfect operative. Grant tensed at the thought and his fingers gripped the book, scrunching it carelessly. 

“They were in storage. Trip packed them up from your bunk right after...” she trails off, no longer knowing where to allow her gaze to rest. Instead of looking to Grant, she turns her eyes to the cloudless blue sky. 

“Garrett’s reading list...” he states, although it’s entirely unnecessary because Skye clearly already knows exactly what this is. 

"Yep," she replies, this time chancing a glance up at him. She tests the weight of another book in her hands, and the distinct wrinkling of her nose alerts him to the fact that this particular novel is clearly not one she favours. 

"I hated Shakespeare," she grimaces, scanning the horizon as she takes a few paces forward and holds up her hand to tell him to stay back. "All of that ‘doth’ and ‘twas’ crap?! Never made any sense to me." 

Ward laughs softly, and his eyes follow the sudden trajectory of the book as 'Hamlet' unceremoniously sails up into the air. 

"Watch and learn, rookie," Skye turns to him for a brief moment and grins, before she spins sharply around toward the descending paperback, holds out one hand, and in a matter of seconds a cascade of paper rains down on them like confetti. Ward's eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, and he huffs out a breath as he sees just how much control Skye now has over her powers. The remaining scraps of paper catch on the tall grass around them, and she walks over to the box and produces a second victim, which this time she offers to him. 

"Come on, it's a fun game for all the family," she teases, planting her hands on her hips as she nods up towards the cloudless sky, "give it a shot."

Ward scowls and shakes his head, still unwilling to lower his defences.

“Burning books? Isn’t that kind of... Nazi like?” he inquires, “might give the rest of the team the kind of impression I was hoping to avoid.”

“Oh please,” Skye scoffs, snorting and shaking her head, “loosen up, Ward. This isn’t a test.”

“Really?” Ward bristles, the words tumbling from his lips before he can fully think them through, “because lately, everything kind of feels like a test around here.”

Her features soften and her impatience stills for a moment. He blinks in surprise as her hand drifts up uncertainly and lands on his cheek, and she turns his head to meet her gaze, willing him to focus. 

"It's just you and me," she states simply, and she pauses uncertainly before she continues on, "and... believe it or not, Ward, I might want you to stick around. I'm trying to help you work out that anger and focus your powers, if you want to be on my team..." 

"You know that's what I want," he interrupts, hardly daring to breathe as her palm lingers on his skin and he feels his heart rate quicken in delight. Skye's smile is triumphant. 

"Alright then... so let's burn the shit out of these books. Show me what you got, Hellfire."

Finally, he nods, rolling his shoulders to disperse the last traces of his hesitation. Skye beams and, with a brief look at him, pulls back her arm and flings the novel she has been gripping high into the air.

“Pull!” she shouts, giggling at her own quip. Ward pauses for only a second to roll his eyes at her before he throws his palm forward, features suddenly locked in concentration. It takes every last iota of focus he has in him, and the feeling is the most bizarre one he’s experienced to date, like there is an electric current surging through his body. It starts way down in his toes and takes less than seconds to build, and before he even knows it, it’s gravitating towards the tips of his outstretched fingers. With a roar, he shoots an actual honest to goodness fireball at the book, barely having time to be delighted before the book is incinerated as it wheels through the air. 

“Yes!” Skye yells, her fist pumping as she bounces excitedly on her toes around Ward, who only consents to the smallest of smiles. 

"This is fun, right?" Skye prompts, jarring him gently with her elbow before she starts rummaging through the box once again. 

Ward watches over her shoulder, and a disgusted grimace contorts his features as he spies the paperback in her left hand. 

"That one!" he directs with evident disgust, "I hated that book." 

"Told you you should have been reading The Hunger Games," she says wryly, sending the worn copy of ‘Matterhorn' soaring into the air. 

"Maybe I should help you figure out a new reading list?! There's Harry Potter, Divergent, Twilight..." 

Ward's eye is trained on the book now making a descent through the air, but he regards her momentarily, seconds before a fireball leaves his palm with terminal intent. 

"Not Twilight." 

"Fine," Skye rolls her eyes, now enjoying herself far too much as she continues to send novel upon boring, tedious novel into orbit. Each one descends back down to earth in a scorched mass of burnt paper and ash. Ward has to admit, the experience is somewhat therapeutic, and it is a game made ever more sweeter by the fact that he is sharing it with Skye.

They are at the bottom of the cardboard box all too soon but both Ward and Skye have to admit that they have passed the morning in a pleasant blur of laughter, property destruction and actual conversation. As Ward watches the last few charred pieces of paper drift to the grass on the barely there breeze, he realises that his entire body does feel somewhat lighter; the weight of the past is still present, still bearing on his shoulders, but his back is no longer bowed with it, and he almost thinks that perhaps he now has someone else who he can rely on to help him carry his burdens. 

As they are walking back towards the base, arms swinging at their sides and a companionable silence reigning, Ward bestows upon Skye the most genuine smile he thinks he has ever mustered. She returns the gesture, lighting her whole face up to such an extent that Grant feels his breath has been snatched from him. 

He manages only a few words of gratitude as he stares her down, “Thank you for this. I guess I just needed someone to show me a... ‘creative’ way to start letting go of the past.”

Skye nods sagely, her grin barely contained, and she reaches out to lightly touch the top of Ward’s arm; ‘I’m here for you’, the gesture seems to say; ‘I’m proud of you’, Ward dares to hope it might also mean. He’s positive he’s holding his breath when Skye wordlessly rises up onto her toes, eyelids fluttering closed, and then gently but firmly presses her lips against his. They have kissed before, obviously, but this is somehow different - purer, not stilted by concealed secrets, and infinitely more promising. It’s fleeting and it’s timid, but it speaks volumes, and they resume the walk back to HQ with their hands carefully intertwined. 

They begin to contemplate going their separate ways once they are back inside base but, as they start to walk away from each other to retreat to their respective bunks, Skye turns and calls over her shoulder to him, halting him in his tracks.

“Oh Ward?” she grins cheekily but her tone is serious and no-nonsense, “I expect to see your name on the Caterpillars list within 6 months. No excuses... Rookie.”

x-x-x

He is taking advantage of some well-earned peace and quiet; between training with Skye to harness his powers, daily therapy sessions with Andrew, and taking part in low level ops with Coulson and his team, Ward is glad to have a half hour to himself. 

The path to redemption is physically and emotionally exhausting, and he knows there is no other option but to serve his time and jump through the proverbial hoops that the S.H.I.E.L.D. director presents him with. Of course, the prospect of spending time with Skye gets him out of bed each morning and the flirtatious smiles, affectionate glances, covert hand-holding, and snatched kisses bring him the kind of happiness he always believed was out of his reach. But for now, he is content to simply recline on the couch, book in hand. And not just any book of course, but one he has been meaning to read ever since an old friend suggested it a lifetime ago. 

Turning the page, he finds himself becoming more engrossed in the plot and sympathising with the characters contained in the prose. The themes of great responsibility, sacrifice and burden are something he understands only too well. 

He doesn't hear Fitz walk in - a rarity for someone with his level of training - and the words of the Scotsman make him start suddenly. 

"The Hunger Games?" 

Fitz gestures to the book in Ward's hand with an expression that flits effortlessly between disbelief and amusement. But this is perhaps the first lone conversation Ward has had with his former friend, and he's not about to ruin the moment by responding to the scientist's snark.

“I thought I should give it a try,” Ward states carefully, watching Fitz’s expression for even the slightest signs of unease on the other man’s part. There are none but still Ward waits with baited breath for a response. 

“How are you finding it?” Fitz finally manages, eyebrow raised as he peers at Ward across the small space separating them. Previously, this was about as much conversation as Grant would have been able to manage; talking to people is difficult, but he’s working on it and Skye jokes that one day he might actually be good at it. 

“It’s...” Ward hesitates, struggling to accurately summarise his feelings on the book, which he had first viewed with open scorn. “Different... But not entirely bad. Actually... I think... I think I kind of like it.”

Fitz seems to take that as an invitation to extend their discussion, so he perches somewhat uncertainly on the arm of the couch, arms folded across his chest in a defensive pose. But Ward supposes he can hardly blame him. 

"Oh, well... the movies are awesome. I've got them on my hard drive if you want to watch them some time. I mean... if... if that's something you'd like to do. With me. And Skye... obviously." 

The gesture is heartfelt, and Ward smiles as he regards his former - and he hopes 'new' - friend. If anything proves to him that Fitz is and always has been the bigger man, it is moments like this. Because if he were in the scientist's shoes, he's not sure he wouldn't hate a monster like him forever. 

"Uh... yeah. Sure," Ward agrees, gesturing down to the books, "I should probably get through this first though, right?!" 

Fitz nods vigorously, "Ah, yeah. No problem, mate. I mean, you don't have to, I just thought that..." 

Ward interrupts him, "No, I'd like that... thank you." 

The Scotsman looks very pleased with himself as he rises to his feet, rubbing his hands together as he indicates the kitchen with a nod. 

"Great. Good. Well, then... I was just going to make a sandwich. Enjoy your book!"

Ward returns his attention to the pages and to the struggles of District 12 with a smile playing across his lips. 

Three hours later, he has finished the first book in the trilogy and is outside Skye’s bedroom door, badgering her for the second. 

One week later, Skye, Ward, Fitz and even Simmons sit down for a movie marathon with trepidation, armed with a family sized bucket of popcorn and a lot of good intentions. It goes surprisingly well, and it almost feels like the start of something new and worthwhile.

Two months later, Ward has finally started to make enough progress in his sessions with Andrew to be considered for an active role on the Caterpillars team. 

He keeps the books and Skye never inquires for their return. She kind of likes how they occupy the otherwise empty bookshelf in Ward’s room; a stark reminder of just how much he has had to let go of in order to be able to finally look to the future again.


End file.
